


Absolute

by GraphiteFox



Series: Say When [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Roxlin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraphiteFox/pseuds/GraphiteFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy adds value to everything she encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute

Absolute

 

                He falls in love in stages, learning to love aspects of her before he realizes he’s fallen completely.

 i.

                At first it’s her voice, self-assured and strong without the stain of smugness. She knows what she’s capable of and she’s comfortable with herself. Smugness is reserved for those who need to prove themselves to others; she’s only ever needed to impress herself.

                Her voice becomes familiar to him, as all the others have. Only he finds himself prompting her more than he would the others, asking for unnecessary clarification just to hear _“Yes, Merlin”_ or _“I understand.”_

                Sometimes she’ll give him a verbal report and it’s all he can do in those moments to remain focused on her words, and not on her voice washing over him.

 

 ii.

                He loves her courage. Her warm eyes turn bright when she’s scared, darting and yet intent. There are little things: the way her mouth will tremble, though she doesn’t speak; the way her breathing quiets even though her heart is racing, so that each exhale sounds like a personal rebuke. It’s not much. Most of the others wouldn’t notice; she’s very good at hiding her emotions. He can tell every time.

                He always offers encouragement.

                She always jumps.

iii.

                She’s _small_. Compared to him, compared to everyone, really. Only the exceptionally stupid agents tease her about her size and never for long. She shows them all that small means quick, lithe, agile; it means having your face pressed into practice mats until you’re bruised by little hands and feet that pack a wallop larger than anticipated.

                Short and delicate are not interchangeable.

                No one would accuse Roxy Morton of being delicate.

                Even when she’s in evening wear and heels, thumbing lipstick off a champagne flute, she’s dangerous. _Especially_ then.

 iv.

                She’s disarming, in more ways than one. Not only did she excel in training when Merlin was showing them several ways to strip a gun from an opponent, but she’s genuine. She doesn’t trade in flattery or subterfuge. If she says something, she means it.

                Merlin finds her refreshing.

                She tells him they should go to dinner. (There’s not a trace of anxiety in her.) He agrees. (He feels surprisingly nervous.)

                Once she’s decided on something, it becomes absolute. When she decides on him, he feels the importance— _his_ importance. Roxy adds value to everything she encounters.

                The others think she’s hard edges; no, not at all. With him she’s a curve, deliberate and graceful. A laugh over a wine glass, a measured stiletto brushing up his calf.

                Comfortable and capable, like always.

 v.

                He falls in love with the way she looks after they’ve fucked, lips kissed red and still curled into a smirk. The way she crosses her ankles behind his back and pulls him deeper, forever wanting more, testing herself, testing _him_. And he follows, eager to know her, to taste her, to please her. Sometimes she acts like he’s in control, but they both know it’s her.

                He asks her to stay.

                She always does.

 vi.

                He falls in love with how well she knows him. The way he takes his tea, the way it takes him a good half hour to warm up to being awake in the morning. She knows that he doesn’t like sleeping alone, just that he’s gotten used to it after so many years, and she’ll remind him through the night that she’s still there: her foot resting across his calf, her hand on his side. It keeps him grounded, and scares him just a little. Getting used to this is dangerous. He’s lost enough agents to know that impermanence is the very definition of life.

 

                But until then and even after, he loves her. There was never any other option.

               

 

**Author's Note:**

> Still gunning for pansexual Merlin, regardless of what the magazines say.


End file.
